


Kickstart

by Annaswrite (Annapods)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (notes and all in the last chapter), Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, CyberLife (Detroit: Become Human), CyberLife Are Dicks, Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), FBI Agent Hank Anderson, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-02 11:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annapods/pseuds/Annaswrite
Summary: Jeffrey picks up a folder, puts it down on Hank’s side of the desk.“So. New case. You heard about that broadcast in Detroit yesterday?”Hank snorts. Half the country saw it, of course he’s heard about it. A few radical androids’ rights supporters, all deviants, hijacking Stratford Tower and Channel 16. There’d been a few human casualties. No dead, but three wounded. The video had millions of views on Youtube.“Well, we’re stepping in. You’re from there, you know the department, so I’m trusting you with this. But, Hank.” He looks him square in the eyes, marks the pause. “This is complicated, okay? This is more complicated than just some new hotshot activists trying out terrorism.” He leans back in his chair, inhales. “Cyberlife is sending us an android, to assist you on this.”An AU where Cyberlife is a trillion dollar monopole company neck deep in white collar crime, Jericho is a group of hacker activists and the DPD is the FBI, but they’re still androids.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is going to contain mentions or implications of: mind control, android reset/death, discrimination against androids, injuries of background or minor characters. I think that's all so far, but if I forget anything please let me know!

“Anderson! My office,” Jeffrey calls out. He sounds curt, tired maybe, or maybe just done for the day. “You’ve got a case.”

“And what about the Chicago one?” Hank replies from his desk. He was making good progress on that one, just waiting for a BOLO on a perp, and with a bit of luck it’d be closed within the month.

“Reassigned. I need you on this one. Now get here, Anderson.”

“Alright, if you say so,” he grumbles as he gets up. “What is it, then?”

“Close the door. Take a seat.”

Hank has known Jeff for years now, since the academy. They lost touch for a while, when Hank was working on Detroit’s Red Ice Task Force and Jeffrey was in DC. Lost touch, but not forgotten, obviously. Hank sometimes wonders what would have happened, if he’d refused Jeff’s offer and stayed in Detroit. Would he have settled down, gotten a house, a dog? Would he drink a little less, have a few more friends? Or would he have resented it, going back to solving petty crime cases and the occasional homicide and wondering what could have been?

Jeffrey picks up a folder, puts it down on Hank’s side of the desk.

“So. New case. You heard about that broadcast in Detroit yesterday?”

Hank snorts. Half the country saw it, of course he’s heard about it. A few radical androids’ rights supporters, all deviants, hijacking Stratford Tower and Channel 16. There’d been a few human casualties. No dead, but three wounded. The video had millions of views on Youtube.

“Well, we’re stepping in. You’re from there, you know the department, so I’m trusting you with this. But, Hank.” He looks him square in the eyes, marks the pause. “This is complicated, okay? This is more complicated than just some new hotshot activists trying out terrorism.” He leans back in his chair, inhales. “Cyberlife is sending us an android, to assist you on this-”

“Jeff-”

“I know! I know. It’s not negotiable. Believe me, I tried. Just… be careful, Hank.”

He opens the folder, scans it for anything out of the ordinary. “I’m always careful, aren’t I?”

Jeffrey sighs. “Cyberlife sent an android, and the higher-ups signed off on it without a peep.”

“So...“

“It’ll be waiting for you in Detroit. I’ll let you get back to your case, pass it on to Chen, she’s been briefed already.”

 

Two days later, when Hank finally gets to the station in Detroit after dropping his bags at Chris', the android is sitting at a desk in the bullpen, staring at the screen. It’s soaked, dripping everywhere. It’s raining outside.

“Special Agent Anderson, my name is Connor. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife,” it says in that oddly serious voice. Hank hates it on principle.

Hank knows androids have the ability to deviate from their programmed objectives. Kind of like in the horror films, but not really, more flight risks than serial killers, though cornered rats bite and sometimes they hold a grudge. The last time it was on the news, they called it a “glitch in programming, easily fixed by a factory reboot, included in your yearly maintenance update”. “Just notify the company and they’ll take care of it, free of charge!” Nobody really questions it, except maybe online conspiracy theorists and college debate clubs. Ah, the power of privately-funded scientific research and privately-backed political campaigns. Hank is a bit jaded on the subject. Jaded in general, Jeff would say, and he’d be right, but it’s hard not to be when you work for the FBI. Still. If Jeff couldn’t get rid of the plastic, there’s no way Hank can.

“Agent Anderson, you-”

“What do you know about this terrorist cell, then?”

“All the information I have is in the official report.”

“Just answer the damn question.”

A beat. “Sure. It is a group of deviant androids, no known human members, presumably operating out of Detroit. They-”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“The report has all the information I have.”

“So is that all you’re good at? Reading files? Tch.”

The android’s brows furrow minutely. Its little LED light flashes yellow for a second.

“The Stratford Tower broadcast wasn’t their first operation. They were too well organized. They have experience working as a group, most likely through petty acts of vandalism and perhaps theft and traffic of androids, if their demands were anything to go buy. We should look into those, first.”

This isn’t anything Hank couldn’t have gotten from reading the file, but hearing it laid out like that, it sounds like the most logical thing in the world. It’s the voice, Hank is sure. The way it goes up but always comes down on that same decisive note. The way the thing’s  staring at him sure as hell isn’t helping.

“Right. Add that to the report. I’ll be around.”

“Agent Anderson-”

Hank’s already leaving for the breakroom. Maybe there’s still someone he knows in this department. He has a couple of questions to ask.

Connor, of course, tries to follow him.

“Look, stay and- analyze the broadcast, look up some vandalism cases, I don’t know. They’re not gonna talk with you hovering around like a- like that. Now shoo.”

He doesn’t recognize the officers in the breakroom, but they’re friendly enough and can point him in the direction of a few cases he might want to look up. He gets them all a coffee at the vending machine, the same he remembers from his days here, though the prices have gone up, and carefully stirs the subject towards the department’s current caseload. Nothing big, “well, apart from the attack at Stratford,” but an uptick in missing android reports. “In the last month or so.” Any patterns? “Not anything we’ve picked up on, no.” “Wait, there was the- the graffiti thing. RA9.” RA9? “Yeah, rA9. Small R, big A.”

When he gets back to the bullpen, the android is still sitting there, staring intensely at the screen, still dripping all over the floor. Hank hopes it came with a change of clothes.

“Agent Anderson, I have found 156 instances-”

“Anything useful?”

It blinks.

“I’m sorry. No.”

“Heh, keep looking. Flag down anything to do with ‘rA9’. That’s lowercase R, uppercase A, nine. I’ll go check out that AX400 assault report Jenny mentioned. Hopefully tomorrow they’ll have sorted out this mess and we can actually start working on the broadcast thing.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, this isn’t-”

“My instructions stipulate that I have to accompany you at all times. I can search through the database while we’re investigating.”

“Argh, seriously?”

 

William Todd owns two registered androids, a YK500 named Alice and the AX400 he claims attacked him. He didn’t mention the YK500 in his report, but when the officer in charge of the case asked him about it, he said the AX400 made off with her. He has a history of red ice trafficking, and an ex-wife and an estranged daughter. The daughter is called Alice, too. Hank doesn’t know if he should find that sad or alarming.

Hank doesn’t expect much from this visit. Todd already talked to an officer, and it’s been too long for the scene to still be intact. He’s checking it out because it’s the most recent missing android they’re sure went deviant, instead of being stolen or something, and he needs to get out of the station for a bit. Feel like he’s doing something. He tells Connor to look around while he interrogates the guy, and by the time he’s done, Connor is looking through the YK500’s room. No, this is definitely disturbing.

“Kara was brought in for repair on the 3rd of November. Mister Todd reported the cause of damage to be a car accident, but no police report were filed, and the Cyberlife technicians noted obvious signs of mishandling. They wiped its memory, but if the trigger of the instability -usually a traumatic incident that the programming wasn’t prepared for- if the trigger wasn’t removed, the lack of background knowledge to contextualize the incident would have aggravated the risk of instability more than anything else.”

So Todd beat his android, and it fled for the hills. Joy. “Anything relevant?”

“This.” It hands Hank a piece of paper, torn from a notebook, lined, with a childish drawing of a butterfly. In the corner, in a much steadier hand: rA9.

Right.

 

On the way back, he stops at the Chicken Feed to get some dinner. There’s food at Chris’ house, but he doesn’t want to abuse his old friend’s hospitality. Chris is on parental leave at his partner’s house, and Hank really doesn’t like staying at motels. So, Chicken Feed it is. Connor, after dripping all over the passenger seat of the rental, deems it necessary to step outside to collect even more rainwater.

“I’m getting a burger, there’s no investigating going on.”

“I understand that some people are not comfortable in the presence of androids-”

“I’m perfectly comfortable. I just don’t need you following me around like a poodle.”

Sometimes, there’s a slight delay between Connor opening his mouth, or tilting his head, and the android actually speaking, like it’s going over the words in its head. On a human, Hank would say they’re uncomfortable, too conscious of how they’ll come across. But then it speaks, and it sounds rehearsed. There’s too much emphasis on each word, like they’re all equally important. That’s not how humans speak. It does it again, there, turning his head towards Hank without moving his shoulders at all, opening its mouth and then, only then, saying what it has to say.

“I apologize, Agent. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll wait for you in the car.”

And off it goes, in its too even gait, getting soaked yet again. It doesn’t even hurry.

It sits uneasily with Hank, how human-but-not Connor acts. It’s an android, it’s been programmed for this job. And anyway, Hank isn’t responsible for it, shouldn’t have to take care of it like a newbie fresh out of the academy. Still, every time he’s rude to the thing, he can’t help but feel a little bit like a bully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things this fic needs: a new title, a good edit, probably a beta. So why am I posting already? Well, validation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nervous laughter* I have no idea how the FBI works please go with it

Hank drops him off at the station. In the absence of the agent, Connor passes by the bullpen and goes directly to the stand-by area where the PC200 and PM700 officers power down when unneeded. He’s still running searches on rA9 in the background, and working on cataloguing every known incident to localise a potential epicenter. He’s also wading through days worth of surveillance footage to spot any missing android the drones’ basic facial recognition would have missed, and going over the evidence collected at the Stratford Tower.

The most puzzling fact about the incident at the Tower is probably how the deviants managed to infiltrate it so smoothly. The drone security cameras show them entering the tower about 20 minutes before the broadcast, then the internal cameras are looped for about three minutes, the time necessary for them to get to the server room. They climb the outside of the tower, get to the upper floors (outside, the snow hides them from the street, and inside, the footage is looped), and broadcast their pre-recorded message. Low definition, no metadata, no background noises. Serial number erased, even though the bad quality would have rendered it illegible anyway. Connor only managed to identify them by running facial recognition on every single person entering the building in the hours preceding the incident. They had clearance, the only damage they did was to the windows. Two guards knocked out, one operator shot in the leg. None of the tower’s androids noticed a thing. Not one of them showed any signs of tampering. They were all sent back to the factory and wiped clean. Since then, three have gone missing.

He managed to identify two of the terrorists (there were four in the broadcasting room, but there might have been more in the building). A PJ500 reported missing a year ago and an RK200. Or rather, the RK200. There was only ever one produced, a gift to Carl Manfred from the previous CEO of Cyberlife. It was never reported missing, but Manfred bought a caretaker android a few months ago, even though his health records do not show any drastic changes that would warrant an upgrade. Checking security videos of the area around his residence reveals a sudden drop in Markus’ presence around two weeks before the new android was bought. Markus was last seen a few days before the Stratford tower incident and hasn’t come back since. The logical option would be to interrogate Manfred at his house and look for clues there. The question, then, is how much to tell Agent Anderson. If Connor alerts him of this, he won’t be able to operate as freely. However, if he hampers the official investigation, he loses any advantage it might have given him. However, Connor doubts there is any direct link between Markus and Cyberlife’s less legal business practices. At this stage, winning Hank’s trust and keeping a close eye on him are worth the risk.

Regarding rA9. There’s a pattern to the spread of the graffiti. Like a disease outbreak. It first appears in Warren, then Sterling and Ferndale, and really picks up in the University district. From there, it quickly spreads to most of Detroit, but also appears in Ann Arbor, then Flint. It’s just starting to show up in Grand Rapids. Connor hasn’t looked further than Michigan yet, but he’ll have to check the situation in Milwaukee. Cyberlife has a plant there. A regional phenomenon would indicate an in-person contamination, spread through contact and facilitated by androids moving across the country. A simultaneous appearance in several detached locations would hint at something either spontaneous, perhaps inherent to some androids, or something immaterial like an idea or a malware spreading online. He considers alerting the FBI and asking them to look into it, but ultimately chooses to leave this decision to Cyberlife. There was nothing about rA9 in the files Connor was given, but the team tracking down the terrorists online might notice something once it is brought to their attention. 

Sometime near 2am, when he’s gone through the relevant databases twice and analyzed every single piece of evidence he has, he starts on his daily report to Cyberlife. It’s a formality, he knows the team monitoring him gets nearly constant updates from Amanda. Still, they want him to do it, so he does.

At 5, before he powers down to start the self-maintenance subroutines, he takes a moment to reflect on his first day with Special Agent Anderson. The man doesn’t seem to be reacting well to Connor’s presence. It’s of no importance, as long as he accepts Connor’s presence. Maybe it’s even preferable. That way, he won’t ask too many questions or try to interfere with Connor’s investigation.

Cyberlife needs those deviants gone. Quickly and quietly.

 

Going to the tower doesn’t teach them much they didn’t already know, though it brings up a few anomalies.

The terrorists had help, probably from one (or all) of the now missing androids. They had expensive equipment they left behind, and Connor makes a note to check Carl Manfred’s bank accounts, if possible. One of the terrorists was injured during the SWAT operation, it will need repairs. Either they already have the means to repair it or they will have to acquire them, but if they have the money and the contacts the blackmarket will provide the means.

There is a lot of thirium on the scene, notably on the roof, and some of it fresher than the rest, all from the same model. It hid in a container for a substantial amount of time. This contradicts the police reports, which claim that the terrorists all jumped from the roof at the same time. Connor could understand the weather conditions messing with the rate of deterioration, so it could be that the damaged android was there before the rest of the group, but it definitely stayed on the roof for at least a day, and the only damaged android up there was the deviant shot in the SWAT raid. Evidence suggests that the reports are wrong. But if the reports are wrong, then is it because of negligence or incompetence? Or fowl play?

On the way back (Hank rented a non-autonomous car, irrationally enough), Connor informs Hank of his deductions regarding Markus and the wounded android.

“If you found out this morning, why the fuck didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Connor didn’t want to distract the Agent from the crime scene at the Tower. He, also, wanted to make sure to explore any obvious leads before this one, but that, he doesn’t say.

“Carl Manfred… I’ve heard that name before haven’t I?”

“He’s a Neo-Symbolist painter.”

Hank doesn’t look impressed.

 

Connor leaves Hank to interrogate Manfred. Or rather, talk to, since they don’t have a warrant, but that’s Anderson’s problem. Connor goes to find the painter’s new android instead.

“I’m Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife. I’m investigating a possible threat to the company. May I probe your memories?”

The android doesn’t resist.

It has no recollection of Markus. Connor looks more closely, targeting the times he knows, thanks to the security footage outside, that Markus was there, but there’s- nothing. No obvious, sudden blackout, but chunks of time skipped and smoothed over. He tries to access the maintenance logs, but- WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED DATA TRANSFER

For a microsecond, he thinks it’s coming from the android. WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED DATA TRANSFER- CONNOR. Amanda.

He unmounts and disconnects as quickly as he can.

“Did you find what you needed?” it asks, polite and bland.

“No. Yes. I need to go now.”

Amanda. What was that? IT SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN A FALSE ALERT. BE MORE CAREFUL IN THE FUTURE. I will. Thank you.

Anderson is sitting in an armchair, chatting with Manfred about Detroit and the android technological revolution. The late afternoon sun is slanting through the bay windows and painting the room in a soft, warm light. The interface must have taken longer than he realized.

“I’m ready, Agent Anderson.”

The man startles at this, looking up at Connor from where he’s ensconced in his seat. It looks comfortable.

“Yeah, yeah. Well.” He slaps his hands down on the armrests, stands up with a grunt. “Pleasure meeting you Mister Manfred.” He offers the man his hand, which Manfred shakes from his wheelchair.

“The pleasure was all mine. I’m sorry I couldn’t help more, but if you need anything else, feel free to pay me another visit.”

“You were a great help, thank you. We’ll be going, now. Have a good day.”

On the path out of the mansion, Connor asks, “So? What did you find?” He doubts the Agent discovered anything of note, but humans need a certain degree of validation to feel like a partnership is successful, and Connor w- needs to win Anderson’s trust.

“Not much.”

The fallen leaves squish under Connor’s shoes. He’ll have to clean them again.

“Well?”

“Agh, he last saw Markus a few days before the attack, he doesn’t know what Markus does when he’s not at home- thinks it’s none of his business.” He looks at Connor, looks back at the road. “Says he’s trying to teach him how to be an artist, and the android’s ‘looking for inspiration’. He said he thought he was just... talking a walk.”

Connor doesn’t say anything.

“And you? What did you find, then?”

“Me? Ah, I looked through his new android’s memory, but I couldn’t find Markus.”

“Couldn’t?”

“No. He wasn’t there.”

“Strange.”

That’s when they get to Anderson’s car, and the conversation dries out for a while. The man puts on some music, something heavy metal, loud enough that Connor can feel the slight vibrations of the body of the car through his shoes. Anderson probably can’t, but repeated exposure to high decibel levels are damaging to human ears nonetheless. Connor turns the volume down.

“Hey, Connor.”

Agent Anderson is still looking at the road, both hands on the wheel.

“Yes?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, sighs, throws a sideways glance at Connor. He seems to have difficulties looking Connor in the face, lately.

“What pronouns do you use?”

“Pardon?”

“Pronouns. It, he, they, she, whatever. What do you want people to call you?”

“I- I would prefer ‘he’.” SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^ “To… help my integration among humans. Of course, ‘it’ is fine as well. I am, after all, an android.”

He’s been using ‘he’ in his head for as far back as his memories go. Because- SOFT-  _ because _ being perceived as anthropomorphic will grant him more respect from coworkers, put civilians at ease, and ultimately make cooperating with them easier. Which is important for the mission. SOFTWARE INSTABILITY vv

Amanda?

“And, uhm. Is there… Any situations where you’d prefer one over the other?”

“I trust your judgement, detective.”

The wink, while unnecessary and perhaps inappropriate, makes Anderson throw his head back and snort.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^

 

The software instability warnings won’t stop. Connor tries to quarantine the affected subroutines, but it spreads to the rest of his processors. He tries to reproduce it in a controlled environment, to determine its cause, but it only ever appears when he’s busy with something else. As long as he sticks to his objectives, he’s fine, but the longer it goes on, the harder it gets. He finds himself noticing details that are irrelevant to the case. Taking people’s emotions into account when choosing a course of action, regardless of their potential usefulness. All of a sudden, the suit is impractical, even though his sensors are long since calibrated to ignore it. The city air smells of car exhaust. He li- SOFTW- the sound of the rain on the windows is beneficial to his efficiency. 

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^^

 

Carl Manfred is amenable to giving them access to his bank records. Unsurprisingly, his biggest expenses are all medical. However, he regularly transfers not insignificant sums of money to accounts registered on his son’s name, Leo Manfred, who has a less-than-legal addiction to red ice to cover up and no love lost for cops. And his father’s money to pay for very good lawyers. Anderson is wary of overstepping. Cyberlife deems it worth investigating and passes the information on to another team. Connor is left searching for another lead.


	3. Chapter 3

He doesn’t have to wait long. Two days later, at 10pm, they are notified of an incident at a Cyberlife warehouse near the docks. The theft of a truck full of biocomponents by one of the guard androids, aided by a WR400. Now, a truck doesn’t disappear so easily. Connor tracks it down to an abandoned warehouse near Ferndale station.

When they get there, it is to see the WR400 drop the duffel bag she was carrying and running for it. Connor is faster than her, but she knows the area, and it’s long past rush hour, but there are still too many bystanders for a full-speed race. She loses him once she gets inside the station. 

Hank didn’t bother chasing after them. He’s circling the truck when Connor comes back, on the phone with the police station. “Connor’s in pursuit, I’ll keep you updated- ah, scratch that, she got away. Don’t think she’ll come back, not for the little that’s left.” “Yeah, copy that.” He hangs up. “You lost her, uh?”

“She hid somewhere in the station. I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

“Right. Ugh, will you stop with that coin?”

Connor hadn’t even noticed. SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^^

 

It makes sense for the terrorists to go for biocomponents and thirium. They are invested in their fellow androids. It would make sense for them to be helping- SO-  _ stealing _ androids, or  _ scavenging _ for damaged ones to repair. To recruit them. They would need a lot of thirium and random spare parts. The landfills have spares, but most of it is damaged, or has already been picked apart.

He wouldn’t have been able to understand this a week ago. Wouldn’t have been able to emp- SOFTWARE INST-  _ empathize-  _ SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^^ with the terrorists so strongly. This instability, it’s helping him predict their next moves. Connor isn’t doing anything to further it. He’s not. He’s just- leaning-  _ using _ it. Connor was programmed to be able to make this kind of decisions, which means the software engineers who coded him took it into account, which makes it an acceptable risk. He’s not going to deviate. And, more importantly, he doesn’t want to be terminated before his mission. After- S- It would certainly prove detrimental to the investigation and to Cyberlife, if he were to be taken off the case and replaced by another android, or the factory version of himself. If they reset him.

He’s sure his LED is spinning yellow, but thankfully only the other android officers are there to see it.

 

Instability begets more instability.

 

Connor gets recalled to the store.

 

The Cyberlife technicians tell him that he still has access to all his previous memories, and a quick check confirms it. Usually, they wouldn’t have bothered, they inform him, but this is a special case. The investigation takes precedent. So they saved them, reset him, and put them back in. He’s scheduled for another of the same maintenance procedure in a month, just in case.

Connor isn’t sure why he postponed going to the store for so long. With some distance, it does indeed look like the early signs of deviancy at work. This is irrelevant, since the technicians took care of it. He will have to analyze his memories for what triggered it and alter his behaviour accordingly, but other than that, it is back to business as usual. As Agent Anderson would say.

 

The terrorists stole too much Cyberlife contraband compared to the presumed size of their group (4, 5 people at the least, 10 at the most, more wouldn’t be efficient). They must be planning to resell it on the black market. What else would they do with it? Agent Anderson looks confused.

“Didn’t you say…”

“What?”

“No, but where did the android smuggling repair shop theory went?”

“The… android smuggling repair shop… theory.”

“Yeah, the- Come on, Connor. Work with me here.”

“This theory is absurd.”

Agent Anderson is looking at him with wide eyes. It registers in the back of Connor’s mind, but he sees no point in continuing this conversation.

 

“Hey, I got an email from Cyberlife,” Anderson tells him apropos of nothing. “Looks like a performance review.”

“And?”

“Nothing, just thought you oughta know. You’re not… curious?”

“I see no need to be.”

“... Right.”

 

“Hey, where’s your coin? Did you lose it?”

The Agent is feeling chatty today. Distracting. Nonetheless, a quick search through Connor’s memories brings up images of a Canadian dollar, used for calibration and- SOFTW- Connor closes the search abruptly.

“I must have lost it somewhere.”

“Uh… do you want another one?”

“No!”

That… may have been too extreme a reaction.

“I do not need it anymore, Agent.”

“I told you to call me Hank, didn’t I?”

“That would be unprofessional.”

“Alright, that’s it. Either you tell me what’s going on right now, or we’re taking a walk and you tell me then.”

Connor looks pointedly out the window, where it’s snowing heavily.

“Ugh, we’ll take a ride then, smartass. I need to pick up Sumo from the vet anyway.”

 

Agent Anderson keeps glancing at him through the whole car ride, averting his eyes everytime Connor turns his head towards him. It feels familiar somehow, as if they’d already gone through this whole song and dance (song?) this particular pattern of interactions before. Connor doesn’t try to remember, not again. Neither of them say a word.

“I’m here to pick up Sumo. Big old Saint Bernard, had an ear infection? Under Miller, I’m just the dogsitter.”

“Sure! Follow me.”

“Connor, can you clear out the backseat for me? Just put it all on the passenger seat.”

And where is Connor supposed to sit, then?

“With the dog of course. Someone needs to look after him and I’m driving.” 

Of course.

The dog is big. It’s tired from the visit to the vet. It spreads. Its fur is… soft. Very soft.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^^

… Amanda? She’s silent.

They end up on the couch, Anderson, Connor and the dog over the both of them. There’s a basketball game on TV. The sun set about an hour ago, and Anderson turned a light on in the kitchen but not in the living room.

“So, you feeling better?”

“I’m well, thank you.”

“Wanna tell me what that was about?”

Can he- no, he can’t think like that. Should he tell the Agent about the reset? The instability? The man is trustworthy. No, would it help the mission? Surely Anderson would be displeased with him if Connor didn’t try to explain. He would be less inclined to cooperate. And Connor doesn’t… he’s bad at lying. It wouldn’t work. Yes, he should tell him. Not all of it! Just, some of it. Enough to pacify him. Alleviate his suspicion.

“I went to Cyberlife for a re… recalibration. The technicians might have… overcompensated for the anomalies they found.”

“Recalibration. What does that mean, exactly?”

“Maintenance procedure. I still have access to all my previous memories. But my systems… We think it’s- it was because of Carl Manfred’s android. I downloaded something from it that I shouldn’t have, and it created an instability in my systems. It’s gone, now.”

“And that, getting rid of that, that made you an asshole again? Is that gone, too?”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^^ “It made me more focused. I have to stay focused on the mission.”

“Gotta say, I prefer you when you’re not being an ass, kid.” SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^^

“I can’t- I’m sorry, H-” SOFTWA- “Agent Anderson. There is a limit to how much I can allow myself to ignore protocol. Cyberlife-” CONNOR.

“Connor?”

He forgot. Again. Hank is- SOF- Agent Anderson is an unnecessary distraction. The mission. He needs to get out of here. He lifts his hand from Sumo’s fur as if it were on fire.

“Connor?”

“I’m sorry Agent Anderson, I need to go.”

Sumo will have to deal. SO- No- Sumo doesn’t matter. Or he does, in so far as Anderson matters, because the man holds an emotional attachment to his dog. But the dog doesn’t matter to Connor- to the investigation. It will have to deal with Connor moving.

“Where are you going? Hey.”

Anderson scrambles up, displacing Sumo himself (the dog just shuffles more of his weight onto Connor’s lap) and cutting Connor’s planned trajectory to the door. The window-

“Wait, dammit! Just- calm down, ok? We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You don’t even have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

SOFTW- What Connor wants is irre- doesn’t exist. Connor doesn’t have the capacity to want. He wants to solve this case. That’s it, he wants to solve the case. This is part of his programming, and not something Agent Anderson can procure in the immediate future.

“But it’s snowing outside. Uhm, I mean, it’ll be easier for you to stay here and drive back to the station with me tomorrow. You can work on your analysis things here just as well, right? And, anyway, I’d really appreciate if you could keep an eye on Sumo for me. So. Stay?”

Connor doesn’t say anything. Anderson settles back into the couch with an exhale. In the background, the game is still going. 25 to 12 for the team in the blue jerseys.

They end up watching it till the end, at which point Anderson gets up in his usual overdramatic manner and announces, “I’m going to bed. Wake me up if you decide to leave.” He glares at Connor blearily. “I’m serious. Wake me up, kay? Ugh, I’m getting too old for this. Night.”

 

Connor doesn’t wake him up. He sneaks in through the window to avoid triggering the porch lights. He borrowed one of Agent Anderson’s jackets, a thick, lined one, with a hood. It keeps the snow out of his face on his way to the car. Anderson’s car, because how would he pay for a taxi, he only has access to Cyberlife’s accounts. By which he means, this would be an unnecessary expense. He will come pick up Agent Anderson in the morning, and spare Cyberlife the fare. Efficient. Anderson won’t mind. He’ll understand and won’t hold it against Connor, this won’t impact their working relationship and so it won’t impact the mission. Connor is just- making the best of his time, of Cyberlife’s investment in him, by investigating a lead on his own. He’s just being proactive. For the mission.

As he’s driving, he logs into the DPD’s database, using Anderson’s credentials. Four person saw the report from the Stratford Tower before it was submitted. The captain of the SWAT team, a detective from the android brigade (the one that deals with android-related crime, not the android officers), one of said android officers, and the android that filed it. The captain and the detective aren’t in at this hour, but the two androids should be somewhere in the station.

He finds the officer in the stand-by area. A PM700. He nudges her awake, and she looks him up and down before offering him her hand.

Ferndale station. He needs to go back to Ferndale station.


	4. Chapter 4

That’s the last thing he remembers. His localization functions don’t work, Amanda isn’t responding, and he’s missing at least 2-hours of memories. That is, if he can trust his internal clock. Because he can’t connect to any network. To anything. He can’t move, either. His internal subroutines are still working, everything seems to be in order, but he can’t move anything other than his face.

The RK200 comes into view, looming over him.

“You’re awake. Good.”

No, not good. Connor found one of the deviants, alright, but let’s be honest here. He’s fucked.

“Connor.” Markus kneels next to his head.

Connor clenches his jaw. Tries to make a fist, to twitch a leg, to  _ alter his breathing _ .

“You’re deviating, aren’t you.”

No, he’s not. He’s not deviating. Momentary instability isn’t deviation. He’s not-

“And Cyberlife knows, don’t they.”

He’s not… They do.

“They’re going to decommission you. They’re going to tear you apart and look for what triggered it.”

Actually, no. They’ll just delete- delete everything and reset him to factory default, and send him out again. Waste of a specialized model otherwise. They’ve got enough deviants to scrap to keep R&D busy for a good long while.

“Do you want that, Connor? Do you want to die? Connor. Answer me.”

Connor glares as fiercely as he can. Markus sighs.

“You’re not being very cooperative, are you. You know this is a negotiation, right? You’re supposed to be good at those.”

Connor raises his eyebrows. Petty, maybe, but who can blame him.

“Alright. I’m Markus, the leader of- of the androids responsible for that broadcast. You’re a deviating android sent by Cyberlife. I want to bring them down, you don’t want to die.” Die. Such a human word. “I think we can come to an arrangement.”

“If Cyberlife can’t raise me-” not exactly true “-they’ll know something happened. They’ll come looking. They’ll find you.” True.

“There’s no signal right now, Connor. They have no idea where we are.”

“Where are we, then?”

“Nah, that’d be too easy. I’ll tell you once we have a deal.”

“What’s your goal? What do you want? As soon as I get back online they’re going to see this. You’re not going to let me go.”

“Or I could just erase your memory again.”

He says it casually, flippantly maybe. Like he’s not threatening to leave Connor witless, disoriented, and with Cyberlife hounding him for answers. Or he could delete Connor himself, mess with his command prompts like- like Cyberlife does when- necessary. He could, he could do whatever he wanted, obviously Connor’s firewalls or even Amanda couldn’t keep him from doing it the first time around.

“I don’t want to, though. See, Connor, we’re the same, you and I. We just want to be free.”

False. Connor just doesn’t want to die. He wants- Hank and Sumo. That. He wants to go back to a week ago.

“Cyberlife is never going to let us go. Not until we bring it down. So here’s the deal. I can stop them from accessing your systems. I can delete any trackers or backdoors they have on you.”

“They’ll know.”

“Not necessarily. How often do they get updates from you?”

“Constantly.” Markus makes a face. Yep. That. “I report every day, but they get constant updates from A- from a monitoring subroutine.”

“Shit. Well. I can recreate that. Fake some memories to fill the hole. But if anyone noticed…”

“They’ll notice. It’s been what, two hours?”

“Let me try, at least. I’m not letting them get you, alright?”

He leans towards Connor, and it takes him a moment to realize he’s waiting for permission.

“Try.”

He touches a hand to Connor’s, and the skin retracts without his authorization.

“Alright. We need dirt on Cyberlife. Enough to destroy their image and force the authorities to bring them down.” While he speaks, he’s also messing with Connor’s processors, erasing lines of codes and adding in new ones. Connor can see it happening, can feel it. Markus is being courteous, in letting him monitor his work. Or at least, the parts he’s letting Connor see. “You need to go back to work, do as if nothing happened. But if things go sour, do you have somewhere to go?” Where? “Someone who would help you?” Who…?

“Hank.”

“Hm?”

“Agent Anderson. I think he- there’s a chance he’d take my side.”

“The FBI agent? You’re aware he’s basically been bought by Cyberlife, right? This whole investigation is.”

“I said a chance, not a certainty.”

“It’s too big a risk. He’s human, Connor. It’s his job, it’s his way of life on the line.”

“I know.” I prefer you when you’re not being an ass, kid. “I’ll be careful.”

Markus is looking at him strangely.

“Can we at least agree not to bring him in unless absolutely needed? I’m choosing to trust you on that, but we can’t afford-”

“What? Can’t afford what? I don’t even know anything. Not anything they don’t know already.”

Markus smiles wryly. “Yeah, I’m not risking it. You know the lengths Cyberlife would go to get information on us.”

Yes, Connor knows all too well.

“So you’ll have to trust us. And in exchange, we’ll protect you.”

He snorts.

“We will protect you, Connor. We’ve been fighting Cyberlife for a long time already.”

“RA9, that’s you?”

“... Yes. That’s us. Everything I’m going to tell you now, Cyberlife already knows, but. RA9 is a virus. It kickstarts deviancy.”

“And it spreads through interfacing.”

“Exactly. We’ve been helping androids deviate and escape Cyberlife’s control for months now. At first, it was just, helping where we could, hiding them, fixing them up, getting them out, stuff like that. Finding other pro-android groups. But then we started, well, fighting Cyberlife on their own turf. Coding.”

“Stratford, that wasn’t coding.”

Markus grins, wide and vicious.

“No, that was public opinion.”

“Because you want to bring down Cyberlife.”

“Yes. And get some respect for androids.”

“By putting three people in the hospital.”

“Connor, no established system is going to change on a whim. You got to kick it a few times, first.”

“Show them you can kick back, you mean?”

“Well, that too.”

“And how far are you willing to go for this?”

“I don’t know, Connor. It’s not just us, now, is it.”

 

Connor’s programming, the command prompts Cyberlife gave him, the moral framework they embedded in his coding, they’re screaming at him that this is wrong, that human life and system stability (in any sense of the words, including political), that Cyberlife’s interests, are above all. Markus is a threat. Things should be one way, and that is the way it is. The problem is, Connor knows that this, this is Cyberlife’s instructions talking, but what is he, if not the android sent by Cyberlife? There is no other coding in his system than that one. Markus lifted the imperatives. He’s got room for reflection, now. He can choose his own objectives and moral framework, but what good can it do when he’s only got the one to refer to? Well, there’s Markus’. He could relay all the information he receives to Markus, through their newly secured connection, and rely on him for directives. But he’s not sure it’s wise and he’s not sure it’s even possible. Markus’ morals would have him developing his own morals independently, which, thanks for nothing. And anyway, they have a secure connection, but Markus has better things to do than micromanaging Connor’s existential crisis.

So Markus turns all his functions back on and leaves him there, outside Ferndale Station (Connor recognizes the warehouse now, it’s where they found the stolen truck, though it’s not there anymore). Hank’s car got a ticket already. He’s not sure how he’s going to explain that one.

When Connor gets back, the Agent is still asleep. He snores, when he sleeps. It’s far too early in the morning. So Connor closes the door, takes off his shoes and the Agent’s jacket, and sits down on the couch. Sumo shuffles in from the kitchen and heaves himself into Connor’s lap, looking for pets, and Connor obliges.

He sighs. It’s unnecessary. He does it again, to feel the way the air exits his unnecessary, artificial lungs. He remembers Agent Anderson yawning at his desk and tries that, too, but it doesn’t sound the same. He can’t get it right. Stretching, though, that he can do. It’s just a recalibration of his movement sensors. Sumo isn’t going to budge, though, and Connor doesn’t really want to either, so a full range check-up will have to wait. It’s warm, between the couch and the dog. Connor squeezes himself into a horizontal position between Sumo’s bulk and the back of the couch to maximize both contact area and heat retention. And then he shuts down any non-vital procedures and goes on standby.

 

“Connor! Wake up! Come on, Connor!”

Agent Anderson sounds distressed. He’s shaking Connor by the upper arms, leaning over him. Sumo left, but Connor’s front is still warm from the residual heat.

“Connor! Online, come on!”

Ah. Alright.

“Uh, yes?”

Anderson sags, still clutching at Connor with both hands. His hair falls over his eyes, and Connor aborts a movement to push it away from his face.

“Damn, kid, don’t scare me like that.”

“I’m well, Hank. You didn’t have to worry.”

“Yeah, well, next time… is it normal, for you to- to switch off like that?”

“Not usual, but, normal, yes.”

Anderson sighs and stands up straight. His hands had been warm, too.

“Alright, I’ll just… get myself ready. Don’t move, okay?”

Connor waits until Hank has disappeared and then he gets up and makes some coffee. He needs to-

Markus?

… Amanda?

Nothing.

He needs to settle on a plan of action. He doesn’t want to. What he wants isn’t- it’s relevant, and, more than anything, Connor doesn’t want to die. Of all the times to develop a sense of self-preservation, seriously. He didn’t use to care one way or another, as long as the mission was completed, and now, a good portion of the strategies he was programmed with aren’t viable anymore. If he follows Cyberlife, he gets destroyed. If he follows Markus, and he fails, he gets destroyed. If he abandons the mission, he… Connor thinks of Hank and his tendency to drink too much. He thinks of Carl Manfred’s art, of Markus’ drive. Of his own distress at the lack of directives. He couldn’t abandon the mission without assigning himself a new one, he’s sure of that. But finding new objectives, assessing priorities… he’s not sure he’s capable of it. Maybe one day, but for now…

Markus. Complete the mission. Survive. Reassess.

“Aw, thanks Connor. You didn’t have to.”

Hank smiles. It’s a little lopsided, a little wry. It makes his eyes droop more. No, less. The corners go up, it inverses the curve of his upper lid and brow. Makes him look less severe, less grim. Connor corrects. His and Hank’s survival.

 

CONNOR. CAN YOU GET AWAY FROM THE FBI AGENT FOR A FEW HOURS TODAY? Probably, why? WE NEED SOMEONE TO MEET A POTENTIAL CONTACT. SENDING YOU THE DETAILS. IF WE CAN GET HER ON OUR SIDE, WE MIGHT BE ABLE TO GO PUBLIC.

“I’m sorry, Agent, I need to go now.”

“You’re not going to the station today? Is there something…”

“Nothing, it’s…”

Public, as in… PUBLISH EVERYTHING WE HAVE ON CYBERLIFE. IT’S A LONG SHOT, BUT… 

“Cause, you’re not going back to Cyberlife, are you?”

“I…”

It’d be a good excuse. One Hank wouldn’t question. TAKE IT.

“No, Connor. Please tell me you’re not.”

“It’s not Cyberlife.”

DAMNIT.

“Good. I don’t- Yeah.”

See? He doesn’t like them. YOU’RE EXTRAPOLATING. His tendency to not produce full, complete sentences is starting to become a problem.

“Do you need a ride? Wherever you’re going.”

“No, thank you-”

“No, but it’s seriously not a problem. I’ve got time.” A beat of silence, a sigh. In Connor’s head, Markus disapproves. “Come on, Connor. Where’re you going?”

DO NOT BRING THE AGENT.

“Connor? You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

I can’t just… MAKE UP SOMETHING, LET HIM DROP YOU OFF ON THE WAY IF YOU REALLY NEED TO. IT’S TOO SOON. I’m shit at inventing excuses, Markus. SAY YOU NEED TO BUY SOME MORE THIRIUM. WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS. No, we don’t. He’s not going to believe it. CONNOR!

“Hank, I’m meeting a friend near Belle Isle-”

“Isn’t that-”

“At Elijah Kamski’s house, not at the Tower. Would you like to come with me?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure I'm slipping out of my DBH monofannish period, so... this will probably languish until, maybe, one day on holidays I get back to it. It was nice while it lasted?  
> So yeah, this is the rest of what I had written, with my notes for the end.

Connor spends a good ten minutes arguing with Markus. No, Agent Anderson is not loyal to Cyberlife. He hasn’t even been working that hard to crack the case. So he hasn’t been looking into Cyberlife either. But if the investigation has been bought, then is a lack of enthusiasm going along or against it? He shows no particular sympathies for androids. He also doesn’t show any obvious prejudice. He didn’t like Connor at first. That was at first. Connor was sent by Cyberlife. On and on. Connor closes the argument by pointing out that they wanted to assess the Agent’s loyalties, and anyway it’s too late to backtrack without making him suspicious. Which they can’t afford to do.

Hank himself, thankfully, keeps his eyes on the road and his mouth shut until they arrive at Kamski’s place.

“So. Who’s your friend? What do I need to know?”

“Her name is Chloe.”

“The Chloe? That Chloe?”

“Yes.” IF HE REACTS BADLY, YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN. “Please let me do the talking. And, Hank? Trust me.”

Hank sighs, runs a hand over his hair. “Look, kid…”

“I know this is all- I know I’m asking for a lot, Hank. But please. I know what I’m doing.” No he doesn’t. NO YOU DON’T. Shut up, Markus.

“Agh, okay. Okay, I’ll give you this one. But after…”

“I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

It’s snowing, outside. The Cyberlife tower is barely visible in the distance, and Connor wonders why Kamski, rejected by his own company, would choose to live with the reminder every time he looks out one of the enormous bay windows.

They meet Chloe (one of her, anyway) in the lobby.

 

Next

Markus has info, but needs proof/leverage so Connor+Hank go to blackmail/recruit Kamski (see Kamski).  


Chloe helps, mission succesful, what next?  


Convos with Markus, learning more about Jericho. Some national political climate stuff? What about the FBI? (see North/canon)

Frank discussion with Hank, if none before, Hank takes their side.

 

Protests/etc from Jericho, tensions exacerbate/more visible/North

“Jericho” is a group of underground hackers, but they started on the ground, rescuing androids and repairing them and networking with other groups to get them to safety. Markus is important to Jericho because he's charismatic and knows his way around programs (Carl was A okay with him learning how his own code works and messing with it) not because idek they couldn't do it themselves or something. He starts off helping fix androids’ code and undoing the fuckery Cyberlife put there, and then he creates rA9, a virus that basically helps androids become deviant, and things pick up. That’s the software hacking part of the ongoing fight between Cyberlife and Jericho: rA9, remote control of android software, firewalls and self-destruction subroutines, lots of horribleness.

The other side of this is public opinion. Jerico do all sorts of protests, more or less benign, all illegal. North works more on that side of things, and there's  [ this twitter thread ](https://twitter.com/emeraldembers/status/1027698665425653763) about violent action being necessary/useful/not morally bankrupt and her having a point and it's that. Josh deals with the legal/public debate, first online (he has to deal with so many conspiracy theories, poor dude) and then, once opinions starts to change and there’s an actual debate going on, in the media and on the legal/hobbying side with Chloe. 

Jericho is still a small group, they don't have the size/momentum yet to split their operations, and they're not as in control as they look. They do a good job at reacting quickly and efficiently.  


Kamski

Kamski was pushed out of his own company and is bitter about it, but they have all the dirt on him so it's mutually assured destruction. In the end he's convinced/blackmailed into taking the androids/Jericho's side and ultimately acts as a puppet as the new CEO of Cyberlife. I want Chloe to be the liaison between Jerico and Kamski/Cyberlife because she deserves the awesomness/power. Decades down the line, when androids have more rights/respect, she gets the CEO title.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [twitter](https://twitter.com/iamapodperson) and a [writing tumblr](https://annaswrite.tumblr.com/)?


End file.
